


It Had to be You

by ifwehadamonkey



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa, and it's pretty fluffy, or the u.k. equivalent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:33:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwehadamonkey/pseuds/ifwehadamonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz have been best friends for five years, but with their school's Winter Formal coming up, Jemma decides it's time to confront her growing feelings for Fitz and ask him to be her date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Had to be You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Fitzsimmons Secret Santa gift for iaindecutestecker! The prompt was 'high school au', so I tried to remember what it was like to be in high school with a crush :) Hope you like it!

“Look, Fitz, it’s snowing!”

Jemma stared out at the falling flakes while a noncommittal grunt sounded behind her.

“It’s the first true snowfall of the season. We’re bound to have a white Christmas now.”

When this solicited still no response from her best friend and lab partner, Jemma turned around from her seat in her room’s bay window. Fitz sat at her desk, hunched over her mum’s watch. There was really no need to call an electrician or handy man with Fitz around. If it had moving parts or wiring, chances were Fitz could fix it.

“Did you even hear me?”

“It’s snowing.”

Jemma rolled her eyes and turned back to the window.

“I’ll never understand how one person can be so grumpy during the holidays.”

“I’m always grumpy.”

Jemma smiled involuntarily and turned her eyes from the snow falling to Fitz’s reflection in the window.

The two of them had met five years ago when Fitz’s family, which was really just him and his mum, had moved from Scotland to Jemma’s hometown in northern England. The local private school had an accelerated learning program for science and technology, which Fitz had entered on a scholarship, the same year that Jemma joined the program. She had figured out from just a week in classes with him that he was the smartest, and most interesting, person in the room, apart from her, of course. When the time came to choose lab partners, Jemma had decisively carried her things over to his table and introduced herself. They had been partners, and best friends, ever since.

Now it was their final year before heading to university and their school’s annual Winter Formal was fast approaching.

“Did Nancy talk to you about doing the lights for Formal?”

“Yes, she did,” Fitz turned his head to give her a pointed look, “It appears that _someone_ volunteered me.”

“It’s only fair, Fitz. They _somehow_ found out about my residue-free bubble formula, you know the one I did for your mum’s birthday party last year, and talked me into re-creating it for the Formal. Besides, no one would be able to put together a light display like you could, not on such a grand scale.”

“I mentioned it once, in passing, to Ned Barber. How was I to know he’d actually talk about it, and to Nancy, of all people. She’s a complete blabber and she never forgets anything, ever.”

“It makes no difference, we’re both on the committee now.”

The room fell once more into silence, Jemma continuing to stare at the puffs of white gently falling, Fitz gently reassembling the watch.

“Fitz?”

“Hmm.”

“Have you thought about going, to the Winter Formal that is?”

“No. There’s a lab final on Monday, figured I’d just study and stay in.”

Jemma turned around and sat up, placing her hands nervously in her lap.

“Would you like to go? With me?”

At this, Fitz looked up at her in surprise, “With you?”

“Yes, I mean, it is a rite of passage, after all, and you wouldn’t want to walk away from our years here with regrets…,” Jemma’s voice faded out to a whisper before growing stronger and more decisive, “…and I just thought you might like to go, with me.”

Fitz just stared, blue eyes wide and round, “As…friends?”

“Well, a bit more than that. I want you to be my date.”

Jemma watched as Fitz’s mouth fell open, his body turning fully in his chair to face her.

“A date date?”

Jemma stomach dropped. This was not going at all the way she’d hoped. Had she completely misread the looks she’d caught him throwing her way? Or the way he’d started blushing every time their hands had brushed recently, or they’d touched in any way? Surely, he hadn’t failed to notice those same looks and blushes coming from her.

She stood abruptly and started pacing the room, “Oh, Fitz, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget I asked. We’ll stay in, study, maybe get take out. It’ll be fun. And we’ll never ever speak of this again.”

“Jemma.”

Jemma turned slowly to face him, unable to stop wringing her hands.

“I’d like to. I mean, yes, I’d like to go to the Formal, with you.”

Jemma smiled, “Really?”

Fitz stood up, nearly knocking the chair over in his haste, “Um, yes, yeah. Great. I mean, sounds great. I should probably, uh, I should probably go. It’s snowing, after all.”

Jemma watched him gather his things, delighted by his sudden awkwardness. Jemma Simmons made Leo Fitz nervous, imagine that.

“I know we’ll see each other at school, but should I pick you up Saturday around 6?”

Fitz paused, only one arm in the sleeve of his jacket, “Pick me up?”

“Well, I did do the asking, so technically I’m the one taking you out, so it stands to reason that I should be the one picking you up, if we’re following tradition.”

“No, Jemma, absolutely not. I’ll pick you up, at 6, on Saturday, and that’s final.”

“If you insist, you only live two doors down anyway, I could easily just walk over-“

“-No. I’ll pick you up here, at your door. As tradition would have it.”

“Oh, all right. Do watch your step outside, it’s starting to stick.”

Jemma followed Fitz to the front stoop of her house, watching as he carefully maneuvered the slick steps.

“Bye, Fitz.”

He paused and turned, a small smile quirking up one corner of his mouth, “See you tomorrow, Simmons.”

* * *

 

 

Fitz walked slowly back to his house, hardly aware of the snow falling. Jemma Simmons, _the_ Jemma Simmons, had asked him to the Winter Formal. She was easily the prettiest girl at school, and the smartest person by far, apart from himself, and as luck would have it, she was his best friend in the world.

He could hardly deny, at least not to himself, that his feelings for her had changed over the past year, he just never expected anything to come of it. She could have asked anyone, yet she’d asked him. He wasn’t exactly the sort he’d noticed her admiring over the years, far from it. He wasn’t very tall, and despite having the appetite of three grown men, he was skinny as a rail, although, to be fair, he had started filling out some recently. He didn’t play any sports, and he’d never cared to. So why had she asked him?

He reached the steps leading up to his house and stomped up, knocking the snow from his shoes before going inside. He was just hanging up his coat when he heard his mum come bustling from the back of the house, most likely from the kitchen by the smell of things.

“Ah, I thought I heard you come in. Are you hungry? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Jemma asked me to the Winter Formal this Saturday.”

His mother grinned widely, “Oh, did she now? It’s about time, I’d say.”

Fitz followed her back to the kitchen, where a roast was resting on the table, potatoes and carrots nestled around it. She pulled open the oven door and took out a tray of golden dinner rolls, deftly sliding them into a breadbasket, which she added to the spread.

“Why is it about time?”

“To be a genius child, you are certainly oblivious to all manner of things. That girl’s had a certain look in her eye around you for some time now, and you, my boy, have had that same look in your eye for longer than that.”

“It doesn’t make sense. She specifically said it was a date, and not as friends, a date. I’ve never even been on a date before. I’ve got no clue what I’m supposed to do, or how I’m supposed to act. Everything’s topsy turvy.”

They had settled down with their plates before his mum spoke again.

“Let me ask you this, do you like her?”

“Of course, she’s my best friend.”

“We all know that, Fitz, I mean do you _like_ her? As more than just a friend?”

“I suppose. I mean, yeah, but what I don’t understand is why she likes me.”

“Because she’s a smart girl, that’s why. You’re handsome, and kind, and smarter than all of those other boys at school put together, and you’re both at a certain age where feelings can change, as hers have, and yours as well. If you’d take a step back from it, you’d see that this is all of a piece, and it’s been coming for a long time.”

Fitz was still unsure, but he let his mum’s words roll around in his head while he finished his dinner. Maybe she was right, maybe he was too close to the situation to see it as it was, or maybe they were both wrong and he was overthinking and putting feelings where there were none.

They finished eating and cleaned up together, as was their habit, before his mum went in to watch television and work on her latest knitting project. He hovered in the doorway a moment, “Um, mum, would it be alright if I borrowed the car, for Saturday?”

“I work overnight at the hospital, but I suppose you could drop me off and pick me up Sunday morning.”

“Thanks. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, and don’t stay up too late working on one of your gadgets.”

He headed upstairs to the guest bedroom, which his mum had let him convert into his own workspace. He had tables lined up along three walls, with projects in different stages strewn about. A second-hand sofa sat in the corner, with comfortable cushions, if an unfortunate shade of green. He walked over and flopped down, crossing his arms behind his head and staring unseeing at the ceiling.

If today hardly felt real, how was he going to feel on Saturday?

* * *

 

 

They met Monday morning at the bus stop in front of their houses. They’d been riding the bus to school together almost since the beginning. They walked when the weather was agreeable, but for snowy days like this one, it was the bus for them.

Jemma was already waiting when Fitz ambled up, still groggy, despite his morning tea.

“Good morning, Fitz.”

“Hmph.”

Jemma knew better than to try for a more loquacious conversation this early in the morning, so she merely smiled and turned to stare down the street, anxious for the bus to arrive. She hardly knew what to say anyway.

She shivered slightly and tucked her hands more firmly in her coat pockets.

She started in surprise when she felt Fitz’s arm come around her shoulders, his hand rubbing her arm gently.

“Warm enough?”

Jemma could feel her face turning pink, and not just from the cold. She just smiled and nodded, turning slightly to burrow more snuggly into his chest.

The bus arrived just then and they bundled on, quickly finding seats near the rear exit doors. Their shoulders brushed as the bus rumbled on towards their school, but rather than shy away, as they had been doing, they leaned just slightly towards one another, both of them hiding small smiles.

Unfortunately, once the bright lights of the school hallway washed away the soft, snow filled light of the morning, Jemma began to think about how she had all but sprung this at Fitz out of the blue, and because she was who she was, she began to feel guilty about it.

“Fitz.”

“Yeah?”

Jemma pulled him gently to the side of the hall, out of the flow of students heading to morning classes.

“Listen, about last night, I know I put you on the spot, and I would completely understand if you decided not to go. I should’ve went about it better. You’re my best friend in the world, and I would absolutely hate it if anything happened to muck things up between you and I.”

Fitz’s face dropped, “You don’t want to go?”

“Oh, no, no! I do! But I only want you to go if you _truly_ want to.”

“I do want to, but only with you.”

Jemma pressed her lips together and brought her hand up, as if that could contain her smile.

“Do you still want me to go as your date? Because, if you changed your mind about that, and wanted to just go as friends, I’d understand.”

Jemma reached up to nervously tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, certain her entire body was now a deep shade of red.

“No, I would like you to go as my date. Oh, Fitz, why is this so awkward? It seems I can tell you anything, but I seem to be bungling everything lately.”

“This is new to both of us, yeah? We’re both bungling it, if we’re being honest.”

“What do you think we should do about it?”

“For now, let’s just walk to class.”

Jemma nodded, sighing just slightly under her breath.

They turned to go, walking side by side down the hall, shoulders and hands brushing, only this time, Fitz let his hand hold hers, and Jemma smiled shyly, letting her fingers curl with his.

* * *

 

 

The week sped by for Jemma. Between school and dress shopping and helping the committee prepare for the Formal, she’d barely had a moment to think about this new dynamic between her and Fitz. Nothing much had changed since Monday, apart from the handholding, and perhaps they did sit closer on the bus, but honestly, they’d long since shunned any sort of personal space between them, so it wasn’t that much of a change. It was amazing really. It was all falling so neatly into place that Jemma had started to worry.

She was still worrying that Saturday afternoon when her mum knocked softly on her door before walking inside.

“Oh, Jemma darling, you look beautiful.”

Jemma smiled warmly, “Thanks, mum, although I must point out that you’re distinctly biased when it comes to your only daughter.”

“Oh, but you do. You’re so lovely. Fitz is going to be so overwhelmed.”

“Really? I hardly think a new dress and earrings are going to do much. He’s seen me nearly every day for the past five years and he hasn’t been overwhelmed yet.”

Her mum sat on the edge of Jemma’s bed, watching as she dithered between two different shades of lipstick.

“What’s this all about, Jemma?”

“Am I making a mistake? What if we have a falling out, and we’re not friends anymore? I don’t know what I would do.”

“When did you decide that Fitz was going to be your boyfriend? I know you, Jemma Simmons, and while this might seem out of the blue, you must have thought quite long and hard about this.”

“I don’t know, months ago. I’ve always thought he was handsome, and he has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s so brilliant and we never run out of things to say. I’m just not sure he feels the same way. I’ve all but pushed him into this.”

“Jemma, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Leopold Fitz has been smitten with you for months now, just as you have. His mum and I have talked about it, at length.”

“I daresay I would’ve noticed if Fitz had developed romantic feelings towards me. I see him nearly every day.”

“That’s the problem. You haven’t been able to see the forest for the trees, love. Trust your mother, who knows a bit more about these things than you for once, that boy adores you.”

“Hmmm.”

Jemma stood and moved in front of the cheval mirror in the corner of her room. She swished this way and that, letting the ice blue layers of chiffon in her knee length skirt move about. The rest of her dress was delicately demure, with a boat neck and cap sleeves, overlain with lace trim. Her hair was curled and encouraged to fall wildly about her shoulders, the front held back by a delicate rhinestone studded headband.

“When you say overwhelmed, do mean he’s going to be speechless?”

“He may never recover.”

“Oh.”

Just then, the doorbell pealed, signaling Fitz’s arrival.

“I’ll get the door, you grab your coat, but give it a minute. You’ll want to make a grand entrance down the stairs.”

Jemma watched her mother hurry out, gently closing the door behind her. She grabbed her white woolen pea coat and pulled it on, buttoning it from top to bottom, so it hid every part of her dress, apart from the blue chiffon peeking out from the bottom. She slipped on her ice blue satin pumps, which she dearly hoped she could keep clean, and took a deep breath; time to go see just how right her mother was about Fitz and his crush.

* * *

 

 

Fitz stood nervously, waiting on someone to answer the door. The suit his mother had insisted he allow her to buy him sat comfortably on his shoulders, making the most of his slight frame. The slim fit and skinny tie had worked wonders for him, his mother claimed. He’d gone out that morning and picked it up from the tailors, grabbing a haircut while he was at it. It was shorter than he’d asked, the curls all but gone, but he rather preferred it this way. It made him look more mature, or so he imagined.

The door opened, spilling light and warmth onto the cold stoop.

“Fitz! Come in. Don’t you look handsome?”

Fitz stepped inside, smiling, “Thanks, Mrs. Simmons.”

“Jemma is going to be blown away.”

“She’s seen me in a suit before.”

Mrs. Simmons just sighed, “You children, so bright, yet so blind.”

The smart clicking of her shoes on the hardwood floors heralded Jemma’s arrival. Fitz looked up to the top of stairs and there she was.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He’d read in fiction about people glowing, which was absurd, but he’d swear right here and now that Jemma had an inner light source unique only to her. Her eyes sparkled, and when those same eyes met his and she smiled, he stopped breathing.

Jemma put a hand on the railing, and carefully made her way down the stairs. Her heart was beating much faster than normal and, though she tried to stop, her lips were trembling.

Fitz stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her, an intense look in his eyes. He’d gotten a haircut, and although it wasn’t that big of a change, Jemma thought it brought out the sharp planes of his face and his jawline. His suit was black, or so it seemed at first, but as she moved closer, she noticed a subtle plaid in the fabric. Over everything, he wore a black overcoat and in his hands was a small white box.

Jemma smiled tremulously, “Hi, Fitz.”

Fitz managed to close his mouth and nod, but feared that speech was beyond him.

“What do you have there, Fitz?”

Fitz turned his head towards Jemma’s mother, but couldn’t quite take his eyes off Jemma herself.

“Umm, it’s a corsage. My mum told me what color flowers to pick.”

“Oh, let’s see then.”

Fitz blinked and dragged his gaze down to the box in his hands, fumbling only slightly in getting it open. Nestled inside was a small grouping of pale flowers interspersed with pale blue ribbon and tiny seed pearls.

“How gorgeous. Isn’t it, Jemma?”

“It’s lovely.”

“Why don’t you put it on her, Fitz, while I go grab my camera? Your mother would have my head if I didn’t snap a picture of you two before you head out.”

Fitz pulled it out of the box, slightly mortified to find that his hands were shaking. Jemma held out a hand, pulling her sleeve back slightly to present her wrist. Fitz carefully slid the attached elastic band around her hand, smoothing it into place along her wrist.

He looked up, both of his hands still cradling hers ever so gently, and finally smiled, “Hi, Jemma.”

Mrs. Simmons returned, camera in tow.

“Now, stand just there at the base of the stairs, and try not to look so scared. Honestly, you’d think the two of you had just met.”

Fitz moved beside Jemma, unsure of where to put his hands now that they’d dropped hers. Luckily, Jemma’s mum had everything under control.

“Jemma, dear, why don’t you put your hand just there on his chest so we can get a good shot of those beautiful flowers, and Fitz, why don’t you put your arm around her waist? Pull her in just slightly, yes, that’s it. Now, smile, on the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Mrs. Simmons previewed the shot on her camera, “Hmmm, that’s nice, but how about we do one more. Stay just as you are, only this time look at each other, and don’t give me those looks, you two, a mother is entitled to fuss a bit when her only daughter’s going to the Winter Formal.”

They both grinned and looked at each other, their faces soft and open.

“Perfect. Now, you’d best be off. It starts in thirty minutes.”

Jemma grabbed the clutch she’d prepared earlier from the hall table and followed Fitz to the door he held open for her. The snow had stopped falling, but the air was still crisp and cold. They both moved hastily to the car waiting at the curb, Jemma’s mother lingering in the open doorway to watch them go.

Fitz opened the passenger door, waiting until Jemma had settled inside before closing it and walking around the front of the car.

The first few minutes in the car were spent buckling their seat belts and adjusting the heat, and silently deciding to forego any music on the radio. Fitz carefully pulled away from the curb, wheels sloshing in the run off from the melting snow.

“You look beautiful, Jemma.”

Jemma looked over, but Fitz’s eyes were on the road ahead.

“Thank you, Fitz. You look very handsome, as well. I like your haircut. Not that I didn’t like your hair before, I did, but I like this as well, and oh lord, I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

“Not at all, I think we’re both just a bit nervous. I am, at least. My mum’s been at me all day with advice and rules and, get this, she even handed me a list of general conversation starters. When have we ever run out of things to talk about? I told her it was ridiculous, of course.”

Jemma laughed, “Oh, Fitz. I hope you kept them, just in case.”

“They’re in my coat pocket.”

The rest of the short drive was filled with comfortable silence, neither of them speaking again until Fitz pulled into an available parking space at the school.

They both turned towards each other and spoke simultaneously.

“Jemma-“

“Fitz-”

Jemma smiled, “You go first.”

“Right. I just wanted to say, or rather ask you, one more time, if you’re sure about this? You and me. Walking into the Formal together is practically a declaration. Everyone is going to assume either way that you and I are together now.”

Jemma shook her head. Leave it to Fitz to put into words the same thoughts that were in her head.

“I’m sure, or as sure as I can be. I at least want to try? Just promise me that no matter what, we’ll always be best friends. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Fitz reached over and grabbed her hand, surprising her completely by bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. A giddy thrill washed through her and it was all she could do not to giggle.

“Promise.”

Jemma licked her lips, only vaguely certain of her next step.

“Um, Fitz, could you do something for me? It’s a bit unorthodox, and maybe you don’t even want to, or you do, or maybe I’ve read this all wrong-“

“Jemma, spit it out, I can’t imagine there’s anything I already wouldn’t do for you, short of murder.”

Jemma took a deep breath, “Kiss me?”

“What?” Fitz all but squawked.

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking about it, and if we just get it out of the way first, then maybe we won’t be so nervous about it all night. We’ve been following traditions, as you know, and one of them is a kiss at the door. We can do it now, in private, and then go in and enjoy the evening without all the pressure.”

Fitz swallowed audibly. Of all the things he’d expected Jemma to ask him, this was not one of them. He’d purposely tried not to think about that part of the evening, certain that if he did, he’d never find the nerve to make it out the door.

“Umm, sure?”

“Okay. I’ll just slide over a little and then you can put your hand-“

“Jemma, stop. I’ll never be able to do this if I’m worrying about following directions. We’re smart, aren’t’ we? We can figure this out. So just, be quiet and let me work this out.”

Jemma pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh, the absurdity of the situation striking her all at once.

“And I definitely won’t be able to do this with you laughing over there. Now, do you want me to kiss you or not?”

“No, yes, of course I do, right. I’m shutting up now.”

“And close your eyes, I can’t do this with you looking at me.”

Jemma obediently shut her eyes, which only made her all too aware of the noises inside the car; the rustle of her skirt as she adjusted minutely, Fitz’s quiet breathing, and the slide of his pants across the leather seat.

Then she felt the lightest of touches on her cheek, turning her head just slightly. Her heart was fluttering, anticipation making her giddy. She felt the warmth of his breath just seconds before his lips met hers. His lips were soft, impossibly soft, and so gentle and sweet. She had no prior experience with which to make a comparison, but Jemma thought no first kiss could ever be as perfect as this one.

Fitz pulled away, watching as her eyes fluttered open, a smile already forming on her lips.

“Was that alright, then?”

“Oh, Fitz, it was perfect.”

Fitz grinned widely, ducking his head and plucking at the buttons on his coat, “Still nervous?”

“Not at all, I’ve got something to look forward to now.”

Fitz helped her out of the car and they walked towards the blazing lights of the school’s assembly hall, hand in hand.


End file.
